January 31

Abby looked out the kitchen window during dinner and remarked that the sky was pretty. Since I'd finished eating, I grabbed my phone and ran up the hill to the deck. 

A few moments later, everyone else followed. From a purely technical standpoint, I didn't get a great picture of the sunset (since you can only kinda sorta see it), but I got this one. And I rather like it because it features four of my very favorite people in this world, all hoofing it up the stairs at high speed, just to see something temporary but decidedly majestic and beautiful.

Lots of loveliness in this image, I think. And definitely lots of blessings.

January 30

I almost didn't go to Target today. But then I did, and I was glad that I did because I found these new-to-me automotive lovelies.

Logan's anniversary is coming up in a few weeks. (Already nine years, which is almost impossible to believe but real's real.) I haven't spent a lot of timing mulling it, but the moments that I have dedicated to remembering have been as they usually are -- challenging.

So it was a blessing to find some of his old friends there on the pegs. It was a pleasant reminder of what was, what it, and what will again be.

January 29

We've taken a gradual approach to furnishing and decorating our house. Very gradual. There was the china cabinet we added to the dining room alcove a few months ago. And today, we put down a rug in the family room and pulled the two couches forward. There's part of a coffee table in the garage (because Wayfair) and a recliner is en route, too.

So anyhow here's the rug. And Isaac and Brady wrestling on the rug. (I think they were testing it out and then because they're 10 and 12-year old boys, wrestling followed.)

This is my reality. And although it's a bit odd at times, overall it's a good reality. So I am thankful for it and all of its glorious weirdness.

January 28

As I stood in the dimly lit doorway of my room this evening, Brady thundered up the partial flight of stairs from the first floor and insisted on giving me a hug. Since Isaac was still downstairs eating his 32nd snack of the day (seriously, that boy eats all day long), I summoned them to the family room and asked for a group hug. 

And luckily for me, they complied without argument or incident.

They're loud and they play too many video games and they bicker far (far) too often, but I adore these boys. They have awesome hearts and they're funny and they make me laugh (and roll my eyes sometimes).

And I am eternally thankful for awesome things.

(PS -- I'm not that short. I was crouched over a bit. He's still about the same size as me.)

January 27

I prayed for an opportunity to make something for someone using my new hobby, and I was happy (and a bit surprised) when a chance popped up just 24 hours later.

A friend of a friend's daughter is battling an illness, and my friend expressed interest in sending little gifts her way. So I offered to make a little lap blanket in her favorite color, which I learned to be yellow.

So here it is. The first part of the blanket. It's going to someone else, of course, but making it is truly a blessing to me.

January 26

I was checking the pantry this afternoon to see if we had tacos (we did) when I saw this.

At first glance, it's just a box of plain old Stove Top Stuffing, right? It was a staple at my house when I was growing up but we hardly ever eat it now, so it made me smile when I saw it. And then I looked a little closer and noticed the teeny, tiny identical box of stuffing strategically placed nearby.

And I snorted aloud. (Really. An actual snort.)

I knew exactly where the wee box came from --Santa gave the kiddos those mini brands surprise balls in their stockings-- so I marched upstairs and held it out to Abby, who was standing at her bathroom sink. She looked quite amused as I confirmed that it was indeed her tiny box, and told her that the situation had been well played.

I love it when my kids are random like that. The bursts of levity make otherwise dull, repetitive days decidedly more blessed.

January 25

I was puttered around today running a mishmash of errands, some for us and some related to re-leasing our rental house. This was my view for a segment of the journey.

I love clouds like this and I love how the sun illuminates their edges and gives them such amazing definition. 

I've always mentally referred to them as "heavenly." And anything that brings Heaven to the forefront of my mind is definitely a blessing. Even regular old clouds.

January 24

Here's a pellet of truth: when every day seems like a carbon copy of the one that came before, I can start to feel restless. Bored and restless. Bored and restless and even trapped.

But here's another truth: in spite of what my feelings may tell me on any given day, it's always (always) a blessing to be "stuck" with these wacky, silly, lovable people. 

And I know that's the truth because God is the author of all good things and I was chosen to serve as their mother... by God. So for that truth and for the goodness of that not unsubstantial gift, I am thankful.

January 23

I'm not entirely sure if I've mentioned it before, but I don't like folding laundry. I don't mind collecting clothes or tossing them into the washer or schlepping them over into the dryer, but folding gets a big yuck from me. I'd rather clean toilets, wipe countertops, mop, or perform just about any other chore.

So it's a huge blessing to me that Adam does the great majority of the folding around here. I don't know that he enjoys it, per se, but he knows that I don't, so he does it for us.

That's a servant's heart in action. And I am grateful for the example.

January 22

When we first moved into this house, I had mental images of driving down the hill as a beautiful rainbow arched over the valley in the distance. I was eager for the day that would provide the conditions necessary to make the scene unfold.

It took more than nine months, but today, as Abby and I headed out to the store, I finally got to see it in real life. (This is something of a poor representation, but it'll have to do.) And it was just as stunning as I'd pictured it in my head.

Generally speaking, I'm not a particularly patient person. I don't like waiting, and I really don't like waiting when I don't know how long the wait will last. But we're called to wait on the Lord and His perfect timing.

Waiting isn't always fun but it's necessary, so today, I'm thankful for this lovely reminder that the act of waiting is always a worthwhile pursuit.

January 21

Isaac has grown so much over the past year. So, so much.

Given that he's rapidly hurtling toward teenagerhood, I'm grateful that he still likes to sit and hang out with his favorites stuffed animals. (A pair of dogs, of course.)

He'll be an adult before I know it, so I'm thankful for these last few bits of sweet, shameless, stuffed animal-loving childhood for this boy of mine.

January 20

I'm not exactly what you'd call a "naturally gifted nor motivated organizer." (In other words, I tend to be on the messy side of the organizational fence.) But when the rather large shipment of yarn that I ordered from Michael's arrived this afternoon, I knew it was time to get my act together.

Behold: a yarn cabinet.

Now this isn't all of it; I have skeins stashed in several other places as well, but it was really satisfying to arrange it all by brand and color. And I even created a note on my phone that specifies how many of which I have (which should be a huge help when I start new projects).

The relationship between cleanliness/orderliness and Godliness is often noted, so today, I'm grateful that I mustered that rather uncharacteristic desire to organize. 

January 19

I looked out the window early this evening and noticed Abby circling the mid-deck area. (I still have no idea what to call it. I guess it could be the "fire pit" level.) She does that sometimes and most of the time I just about with my business, but today I decided to follow her so I went outside.

She stayed on that same level (and executed some attempts at evasive maneuvers) for a few minutes as I tailed her, and then headed down the stairs to the main level. I followed her and chased her around the pool deck. It started out as walking at a brisk pace, but gradually grew into more of a jog.

I know I'm weird. I'm good with that descriptor sometimes. And I have no real idea what prompted me to do it, but it made me smile and made her smile. And I hope that, in an odd way, it made her feel loved, too.

January 18

Isaac is a big fan of Family Movie Nights, so I wasn't exactly surprised when he asked if we could watch one after dinner tonight. Us elder statespeople agreed to the idea, so we hunkered down in front of the TV while Adam turned on "Hidden Figures." (Really good, if you've not seen it.)

While I watched, I crocheted (duh) and enjoyed my first drink in this lovely purply pink tumbler that Kathy sent for my birthday. (A mimosa, in case you wondered. They're not just for breakfast. Plus I'm not a morning imbiber.)

It was pleasant, comfortable evening, with my people around me and something tasty in a cup from another favorite person. So for all of that, I'm thankful.

January 17

Isaac and Brady were in the kitchen eating mini Drumsticks this evening when I swooped in, pointed my phone at them, and told them to "look cute."

This was the result. 

There are certainly (far) better pictures of them out there (and in this blog), but this one's just fine with me because it's a random snapshot of life as it is.

And I'm grateful for life as it is.

January 16

I've said for months now that I think the pandemic and resulting isolation has been the hardest on Isaac. In his natural state, he's a happy go lucky, friendly kid who truly enjoys interacting with others -- teachers, fellow students and friends alike. The extended time away from those personal interactions have made him tired, short-tempered, and in some cases, quick to anger over the most trivial of things.

That's why I'm enormously grateful that his baseball coach has been so dedicated to keeping the team together. He had practice this morning, and when he got home, he was chipper, positive, even jovial, and I hadn't seen Real Isaac in quite some time. He even grabbed the broom from the pantry unprompted and started sweeping. He wound up sweeping up the entire kitchen. And the stairs to the garage. And he even let me correct his technique without argument. And he happily chirped away to himself as he worked.

So today, I am especially grateful for Coach Brian's tenacity and for baseball, because it's something --maybe the only thing-- that truly fills my kiddo's cup to overflowing right now.

January 15

Abby and Adam have a shared appreciation for the Marvel universe, so tonight they're in the family room watching the first few episodes of "Wandavision," which dropped early this morning.

I could've joined them, but opted out since I think it's important for them to have some daddy/daughter bonding time, even if they are just watching a TV show.

That relationship is an important one, and I'm thankful that they're tending to theirs in such a simple way.

January 14

I was heading down my front steps this afternoon to go for a walk under beautiful blue skies when I glanced to the side and happened to spy this at eye-level.

In case it's hard to tell, "this" is a snail shell stuck between what's essentially a literal rock and hard place: bricks and cement. 

Although the journey clearly didn't end well for the slimy little thing, I chuckled as I admired the tenacity that it took to climb up so high. 

And it served as a good reminder that drive and determination are important components in the proverbial recipe for success.

January 13

Another day, another food post!

But seriously, Nikki dropped off a box of slightly belated birthday donuts this morning. (What can I say? She knows me.) 

She couldn't stay for long because like me, her husband is in the middle of his company's quarterly close process and she needed to get back to her kiddos, but it was so, so lovely to sit out on the front steps and chat, even if it was only for a short time.

Those chances to connect (and donuts) are important to me, so today, I'm thankful to have had those sweet minutes.

January 12

You know what's just as delicious on day two as it was on day one?

Chocolate birthday cake with peanut butter frosting. And not just any peanut butter frosting, but homemade peanut butter frosting made by your hunny. 

When I told Adam what I wanted, he cheerfully made it... just because it was what I wanted. Even though it's one of his busy times at work and he's been hunkered down in the home office for most of the past few weeks, he took the time to whip it up. Just for me.

Feeling loved and prioritized is always a sweet blessing.

January 11

 Today is my 43rd birthday. And it was a very pleasant succession of hours.

I was awakened at around 9 (I know, I know... I'm a night owl) by the sounds of the neighbors' gardeners going at it with a weed wacker. I padded to the kitchen in my pajamas and found that Adam (who was home but working) had left me a box of chocolates, roses, an interactive card that featured music and lights (and it's quite the spectacle), and coffee fresh from the Mother Ship.

I read a succession of text messages from friends and perused the well-wishes on my Facebook wall, and then ate lunch --pizza and salad from CPK-- in shifts with each of my people. It was quite a lovely treat to have a small bit of solo time with each of them to start off the day.

From there, I went on an adventure (as I call it) which means that I left the house to go... somewhere. And today's somewhere was Michael's, where I indulged in some beautiful, soft new yarn.

Then this evening it was dinner from Hap's (a local steakhouse with very yummy food), silly 'Happy Birthday Sherry' videos, presents, and a cake that featured 43 blazing candles (and lots of sparkles, because as I overheard Isaac noting in the kitchen, "mom really likes sparkles"). (Oh, and the kids were scared of the inferno. But I blew them all out in one breath so bam, no fear required.)

And now I'm back in pajamas, sitting in my usual evening spot with my laptop and the small blanket I started making with one of my new skeins of yarn. I have no idea what this year will hold, but it's a good life and I am grateful for every sweet morsel. (And for the bitter ones that have taught me patience and perseverance and humility and generally helped to transform me into a better person. Those too.)

January 10

My birthday is tomorrow, so I've spent a little time today reflecting on the past year of my life. Since my personality plants me a bit more on the extroverted side of the scale, it's been a frustrating year socially, but at the end of the day, I'm content.

And I'm content because in spite of my ongoing longing for more connection with friends, this is my reality: God has blessed me with a gorgeous new home that is way beyond anything I ever thought I'd own, a family I adore (even if they do drive me nuts at times!), and a new talent that I'm trying to continue to nurture and develop.

Those are huge blessings and I'd be a fool to enter my next year without acknowledging them -- and the Creator who gave them to me. So for all of that and for the year that is to come -- I am thankful.

January 9

It was a boys-making-dinner kind of night.

Although I strongly suspect that Adam did most of the work, Isaac and Brady were in charge of the pasta, so they broke it and put it in the pot, and then monitored its progress.

Small thing though it is, I do so love to see them collaborate to accomplish shared goals. It's shame that that kind of behavior isn't more prevalent in our society.

January 8

I walked into the family room this evening and found the kiddos like this.

Even when they're doing their own individual things (as they were here, with Abby and Brady on their laptops and Isaac watching "Diners, Drive In, and Dives" on the Food Network), I love seeing them sitting together peacefully. 

Because peace anywhere --in the world, in the country, in the neighborhood, in my house-- is always an important (and oft-overlooked until it's gone) blessing.

January 7

I've said this before but it's still true so I'll repeat myself: I don't love change. I like to be comfortable and to know what's coming next. But I know that's not realistic --especially these days-- so I pray for flexibility. (A lot of it. And often.) And today I exercised that flexibility by trying something new at the Mother Ship.

I used some stars to buy a pistachio latte. (The verdict: very sweet. Not bad, but also not super pistachio-y.) 

I know that seems silly, but here's a truth: there's value in baby steps. Even the Bible says (and I'm heavily paraphrasing here) that we should be faithful in all ways, big and small. So if something small helps me to become more flexible over time, it's a blessing.

So today, I'm grateful for pistachio lattes.

January 6

 Very, very early this morning, I finished the cardigan sweater I'd been working on for a few weeks.

The last details were a bit tedious for me --seaming and then attaching the sleeves, weaving in the last of the loose ends and then discovering even more loose ends to take care of-- but once I'd finally tied off the final loop and slipped it over my shoulders, I felt an amazing sense of accomplishment.

I modified the pattern I was using to eliminate what I decided was a flaw in the original design (the backside had something of a bubble butt look that I didn't find particularly attractive), which meant modifying several elements, including the thickness of the collar and the sleeve length. 

So I was completely gratified that even though I'd been operating in a world of guesstimates (because believe me, even though I was using a tape measure, there were plenty of guesses involved), it wound up being a perfect fit. 

I'm not exactly overconfident (or even especially confident) as a norm, so it was a blessing to me to feel that sense of pride. And I'm thankful that God gave me the determination and tenacity (which is no small miracle given that I couldn't even turn my work five months ago) that I needed to help see the entire project through to its end.

January 5

These two crack me up sometimes.

I wandered into the kitchen in the minutes after dinner tonight to find them engaged in a conversation about a book I've never read. Adam was sitting on the center island and Abby was standing nearby, gesticulating as she often does when she speaks.

Then when Adam moved to the family room, Abby followed and plunked down on the couch next to him. I left the room at that point so I'm not sure what transpired after my departure, but I'm thankful for their relationship because it's a beautiful connection to have.

January 4

I woke up embarrassingly late today (and note that I said "today" and not "this morning") after going to bed embarrassingly early last night. (Or maybe I should say "this morning" there. Yeah.) And when I did get up, I didn't feel well at all. Dizzy, stomach ache, headache. So I spent most of the day lying low.

But at least I got to see a few rainbows. (Here's one of them. Squint at it and it'll show up. It's between the trees.) The morning (I'm guessing anyway) and early afternoon featured driving rain and high winds interspersed with brief appearances by the sun. And every time the sun came out, I hustled over to the window to look because I knew that each time, there had to be a rainbow somewhere.

Life is like that -- storms intermixed with sunshine and rainbows. So today, in spite of not feeling the best, I feel fortunate that I remembered to look for rainbows.

January 3

I was in our room crocheting and watching TV this afternoon when Adam came in, looked out the window, and noted that a bank of clouds had settled below the hills in the distance. To get a better look, we headed up to the deck in the yard.

I didn't stay up there long because it was a bit chilly, but the scene did make me remember an important truth. Sometimes, when we're in the thick of a storm and when troubles really press in on us, it can feel like there's no life beyond the clouds. 

But as this illustrates, there is. We just have to rise a bit higher --and maybe, in some cases, even just look up (and keep looking up and looking up and looking up...)-- to transcend our difficulties. 

January 2

I didn't watch tonight's impromptu Mario Kart tournament in the living room, but I did listen from our bedroom, where I was busily doing laps to hit my 10,000 steps for the day.

And what I heard made me chuckle. There was Abby noting that it's hard to play without her glasses because she couldn't see (although she'd apparently fetched them by the time I wandered by and took this pic). There was Isaac making random exclamations in his (still to me) oddly deep pre-teen voice. There was Adam complaining that someone had hit him with a mushroom. (And then another mushroom.) And there was Brady, just cackling. 

I'm not a video game person, but it's a blessing to see them all having a good time together.

January 1

And so another year begins.

It began slowly at our house, with the kids playing video games and me FaceTiming with Kristine and Adam working on the new hammock and the new firepit in the backyard. 

A little later in the day, after us grown-ups returned from a neighborhood stroll, I had a hankering for a Diet Coke so I headed off to Mickey D's. As I drove down the hill in Adam's pretty blue truck, I looked out at the sky ahead and it was... captivating.

It was so captivating that I pulled to the side of the street and took a picture so I'd remember the precise shades of blue and the arrangement of the clouds. In my mind, it almost looked like some sort of airborne superhighway to... who knows where. But somewhere indubitably amazing.

Anyhow, that's the great thing about brand new years like this one we've just begun: they're full of possibility. They're full of new roads to travel and new experiences to be had and new chances for personal growth. And they're full of the promise of something different and, better yet, better. 

So for as-yet unexplored paths that lie just beyond our visibility, I'm grateful.